


Hogwarts School of Questionable Witchcraft

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Little Witch Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Diakko, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Magic, Multi, No Angst, Slow Burn, akko is a literal idiot, no guarantees on the angst thing tbh, tags subject to sporadic change, there be magic in the air tonight y'all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-04-11 22:51:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Akko Kagari was of the opinion she was a perfectly normal teenage girl. She played Overwatch, ate pickled plums like they were going out of style, rode her bike to the market to buy more mochi than she could fit in her stomach, and altogether considered herself to be meeting lowered expectations with style.Until, late one night, news that her life wasn't what she thought it was came crashing (quite literally) into existence in the form of an owl, a robed woman, and an unfortunate misunderstanding that was, in fact, an invitation:Dear Ms. Atsuko Kagari,We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.Term begins on 1 September.  We await your owl by no later than 31 July.“Akko.”  Professor Chariot sighed, as though the news she was delivering was altogether incredibly disappointing.  “You, I fear—“ though the last bit was mumbled, “—are a witch.”The Hogwarts AU we never asked for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> So this is the Hogwarts AU that no one asked for. There's a lot planned for this so hopefully you'll enjoy it :3  
> Going to try for weekly updates, so hope to see you next week!  
> Toodles

The sound of her window shattering made Akko jump so hard that she fell over backwards in her chair.  On her monitor, she watched as her D.Va was sniped by a Hanzo that had been irritating her the entire match, but she definitely didn’t have time to be upset because a series of shrill shrieks followed by the sting of rain as the wind rushed into the now open cavity in her wall.

“Ittai nani?” she yelped, swiping free of the headset that had nearly been ripped off in the fall.  She could hear her teammate’s confused stream of questions but Overwatch had slipped to the very _last_ thing she cared about when she saw the mound of feathers that was squirming and making the worst possible noise at such a late hour.  There were a number of things that went through her mind during the entire episode which lasted, at most, five seconds:

_What in the heck just happened?_

_What is this lump of ear-bleeding noises on my bed?_

_Why is my window broken?_

_This rain is going to damage my PC._

_I’m going to be booted from this Overwatch match and I was killing it._

_I’m not supposed to be playing Overwatch, anyway—I’m supposed to be in bed!_

    Akko scrambled slowly to her feet, not even bothering to upright her chair as she crept toward the flailing creature that was making a mess of her comforter.  It was a bird, _obviously_ , because feathers were going everywhere as one wing beat it in a circle.  Claws ripped and tore at her sheets.

    “Yamete kudasai,” she begged, wincing as rain splattered against the side of her face as she reached toward the bird.  Her bangs were already wet and stuck to her forehead. “Anata wa yakkaidesu!”

    A screech—loud and obnoxious.

    Her parents were _definitely_ going to wake up.

    Akko touched the bird.  Tentatively, at first, because the only bird she’d ever touched before was a Parrot named Ijiwaru that bit her and drew blood.  But this bird didn’t seem to react much. In a mean way, anyway. Instead, it stilled, its loud noises drowning to much quieter coos.  It flapped one broad wing, the other held closely to its body, and pushed itself slightly upright so Akko could finally get a good look at it.

    An owl?

    It looked old and a little rough around the edges but there was something in its eyes that said it knew exactly what was going on and it wasn’t scared in the least.  It blinked at Akko, cooing once more before dipping its head to begin preening at the wing that it was holding so delicately.

    It was hurt.

    Well, yeah, of course it was hurt, because it just _crashed through her window!_

    But all that could be forgiven, because she was only sixteen and certainly wouldn’t be paying for the repairs, and right in front of her was an adorable little owl that had a damaged wing.

    “So ne,” Akko said quietly, running her fingers gently over the wing and cocking her head to the side to try to get a look.

    She was met with resistance.  The owl hugged the wing closer to its body, lids half closed as it squinted at the girl trying to pry at its wing, and made a strange hissing noise that made Akko recoil just a bit.

    When she was confident the owl wouldn’t bite her, she leaned in once more, petting the wet feathers on its head in reassurance.  It cocked its head in the opposite direction, studying her face, and offered a gentler coo.

    Akko decided to try a different approach.

    “It’s okay,” she murmured, smiling.  “Let me look.”

    The owl smacked its beak and offered its wing.

    “English only,” Akko muttered, shaking her head as she lifted the wing to peer underneath.  “Figures.”

    She could see blood leaking through the light brown feathers and, with a squeak from the owl and another reassuring, “It’s okay,” Akko parted the feathers and soft down underneath to see a small piece of glass stuck into the meat of the wing.  She lowered the wing back to the bird’s side and rocked back on her heels, eyes narrowing in thought as she rubbed the back of her neck. She had to get the glass out, obviously, but this was the work of an aviary surgeon and not a teenage girl.

    But Akko didn’t exactly know what she wanted to be when she grew up, still, so maybe she _could_ be an aviary surgeon!  And she did like birds, even if Ijiwaru bit her that one time.  This was the perfect opportunity to try a potential career on for size.  She glanced around her desk—it was getting wet from the rain—for something that might work as a surgical tool.

    And seized the chopsticks that were still sticking out of a bowl of rice she’d forgotten from earlier.

    She inspected her eating utensils-turned-surgical tools with the eye of a concentrated pre-professional and nodded an approval, glancing over her at the owl, who shook his head from side to side.  But what did he know? He was a patient, she was the surgeon.

    “Hold still,” she said, seizing the wing and leaning in once more.  Her instruments were not sanitized and she lacked local anesthesia, but if this bird was tough enough to blast full force through her window, it was tough enough to grit its teeth—beak?—through a small, outpatient surgical procedure.

    “Trust me,” Akko muttered as she focused on the task at hand.  “I could be a professional one day.”

    The owl squalled and flapped its other wing as Akko ground her teeth together and pushed the chopsticks into the meat that housed the glass.  She closed the tip of her makeshift surgical instruments around the glass, pressing hard to make sure she _really_ had it, and yanked.  With care, of course!

    Screeching filled the room, feathers flew as the owl went absolutely ape shit, and Akko cheered in victory as the glass fell to the floor.

    “Atsuko!” came a muffled voice from her headphones, followed by a slew of concerned Japanese.  Akko ignored it.

    “You’re free!” she exclaimed, shoving the chopsticks back into her rice and grinning at the owl, who stared back at her wide-eyed and terrified.  “Surgery was a success, you’re free to go!”

    But the owl just stared and weakly tucked its wing back into its body.

    “Oh,” Akko muttered, cocking her head to the side as she scratched her temple.  “You’re right. I suppose a good surgeon would wrap the wound to protect it from possible infection or further injury.  How could she forget such a simple task? She was moving back in toward the owl, a confident smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.  The owl, however, was backing up into the pile of stuffed animals that she’d neatly arranged at one end of her bed.

    The door to her bedroom flew open.

    “Atsuko?”

    Akko jumped, red eyes wide as she whirled to find her mother standing in the doorway.  She looked sleepy and about ready to crawl back into bed until she noticed the broken window and the rain that rushing in.

    “Atsuko, nani ga okotta?” she shrieked.

    Akko backed into the bed, desperately trying to hide her feathered patient from her mother.  “Watashi wa jibun o shiranai,” she blurted. “Watashi wa okite imasendeshita!”

    Her mother glanced at the PC.  At the Overwatch opening screen and the voices still blaring from her headphones.

    “Atsuko, did you throw your controller through the window again?”

    She’d slipped to English.  Oh, no. She was mad.

    “No!” Akko waved her hands in front of her face, flying forward to grab the controller that was lying on the floor to present as evidence.  “See?”

    “What’s that?”

    “Nani?” Akko squeaked.  She felt her face flush and swallowed hard.

    Her mother stepped forward, carefully around the glass that littered the floor, and pointed to a few spots of blood on Akko’s comforter.  “That.”

    “Where is the—“

    The owl was nowhere to be seen.  Akko blinked in confusion before answering to her mother’s stern stare.  “I, uh, cut myself,” she answered, smiling sheepishly.

    “Clean this up, Atsuko,” her mother said with a sigh and wave of her hand.  “Sleep in the front room tonight and I will have your Otou-san fix this tomorrow.”  She glared pointedly at the PC. “And stop this Overwatch after hours!”

    “Right,” Akko chirped, waiting for her mother to close the door to her room before whirling back to her bed.  She couldn’t see the owl… but she _could_ see the fluff of brown feathers poking out from behind her massive Totoro plush.  With a grin, she reached across her bed and seized the squawking owl, pulling him forward and looking him in his wide, black eyes.

    “Alright, Rowlet,” Akko said with a decisive nod and a wide grin.  “Let’s get you all patched up.”

~ ~ ~

    Rowlet was the most perfect companion.  He was sweet, kind, quiet, and absolutely loved to cuddle.  Not that Akko gave him a choice, because each night she tucked him into her bed with her and hugged him close just like she would with her Eevee plush.  And he never complained. In fact, since it was hot out, he would flap his good wing (the one that wasn’t bandaged to his body) in an attempt to be a fan and cool her off.

    And when Akko had to leave the room, she would always come back to find Rowlet making music with his nails and beak against the glass of the brand new window her father had installed.  Akko always made sure to compliment his screeches and squawks. Even if he wasn’t a good singer, she knew that confidence was key.

    There was only one small, itty bitty, completely minute issue that Akko had not anticipated.

    Rowlet was a living animal.  He consumed food (which Akko quickly learned consisted of anything and everything) and--based on the digestive process that she herself was victim to each and every day—he, well, pooped.

    And he pooped a _lot_.

    He was very cleanly about it because he only went in one corner, but the problem was that Akko didn’t have a litterbox because her parents never trusted her with a cat (“Anata wa sore o koroshimasu,” they always said) and she was running out of reasons for telling her parents why she was using so many paper towels (because she didn’t _tell_ them about Rowlet, because they would say, “Anata wa sore o koroshimasu”) and the amount of times she was swiping liquid excrement was becoming unbearable.

    But it turned out to be alright, because Akko found a thick, rolled up piece of parchment sitting on her floor that was just the right size for a poop pad.  There was a bunch of writing all over it—looked official—and so Akko assumed it was something to do with her very poor grades and the need for her to try harder, study more, blahblah.

    Akko was of the opinion that school was shit and studying was for the birds, so she flattened out the thick parchment in Rowlet’s poop corner.

    At first he wouldn’t use it.  He went all around it, which was very strange, but Akko figured he just wasn’t sure about the texture of his new pad and so, finally, when he was mid-stream, she seized him and held him over the parchment for the few remaining drops.  He began to use it diligently after that, though she noticed that he always made direct eye contact with her every time he did. She assumed he was grateful and was proud of herself for making him feel so at home. And what was even better that a clean piece of parchment always seemed to appear on her desk within a few hours of use, so everything seemed to work out perfectly.  She didn’t question where it came from—maybe her mother had noticed Rowlet and was just keeping everything quiet for her—and so she simple folded up the used letter, placed it in the bin, and replaced it.

    Ultimately, she wasn’t sure what to do with him.  She supposed she could let him heal and then set him back into the wild where he belonged, but there was also the very real idea of keeping him.  After all, she enjoyed his company, and while she never thought she’d ever want an _owl_ as a pet… well, it was pretty cool.

    It was a week into life with Rowlet and Akko was crouched in front of her computer, fingers dancing across the triggers and buttons of her remote as she once more played Overwatch after hours.  Rowlet had settled down on the back of her gaming chair (after she’d picked him up and placed him there a few times, because he kept falling off or something) and was sleeping peacefully with his good wing covering his face.

    Akko had just popped her ult—

    _“NERF THIS!”_

    When the sound of shattering glass, a shrieking Rowlet, and a slew of English curses erupted from behind her.

    “Ittai nani!” Akko shouted, probably a bit too loudly, and threw her headset and controller down on her desk.  Luckily it wasn’t raining, but there was still the fact that something or, as Akko turned around, _someone_ , had broken the brand new window that her father had just installed.

    The person was groaning and mumbling.  They brushed glass off their body and stood, rolling their shoulders as shards of glass crunched beneath black boots.

    “Who are you?” Akko yelped, grabbing the first weapons she could find—chopsticks—and dual wielding them in her most threatening stance.  Rowlet had leapt from his perch and had found himself on Akko’s bed, where he bounced up and down and cooed with excitement. Akko was confused.  A strange person—a woman, she could see now—had crashed through her window in the dead of night and Rowlet was _excited_ about it.  Though, he did do the very same thing himself, so maybe it was some kind of thrilling sport for owls.

    But for humans?

    “I assume you’re Atsuko Kagari,” the woman moaned as she finally leveled her gaze with Akko.  She was pretty, kind of young but definitely older, with long red hair and a pair of glasses that sat askew on her face.  She was wearing black robes, which was super sketchy to say the least, but Akko found herself relaxing nonetheless. She dropped the chopsticks to her side and cocked her head.

    “Uh, yeah,” Akko replied, “That’s me.  But who are _you_?”

    “I—“ The woman lifted her chin in dramatic pride and offered a bright smile.  “Am Professor Chariot du Nord. I was sent to check on the status of your response and, well, look for a certain owl that has not yet returned to the aviary.”

    At which point she caught side of Rowlet, who was still hopping up and down and flapping his good wing.

    “Oh!  There you are.  It’s wonderful to see you’re safe.”  The woman—Professor Chariot du Nord—stepped to Akko’s bed and gently stroked Rowlet’s head with her thumb.

    “That’s my owl,” Akko said defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest.  “His name is Rowlet.”

    “No,” the Professor said, raising red eyebrows as she turned her stare back to Akko.  “ _Her_ name is 736³ and she is property of the school.”

    “What kind of name is 736³?” Akko scrunched her nose in distaste.  “Rowlet’s much better. But, okay, sorry to mis-gender her, but I can’t exactly see anything through all those feathers on her crotch, not that I _inspected_ —“

    “Because 736³ is exponentially easier to say than 398,688,256,” Professor Chariot said as though it was the most simple answer in the world.

    “Whatever,” Akko said.  She plopped down on her bed and stroked Rowlet’s good wing, frowning as the owl moved a bit further away.

    “And what exactly have you done to her?  Besides kidnapping and imprisonment,” the Professor—if she even _was_ a “Professor”—asked with a huff.

    “What do you mean?  She was hurt.” Akko pulled out the bad wing, which she’d expertly bandaged with bright pink pre-wrap and covered in her favorite Hello Kitty bandages.  “It’s my new goal to become an aviary surgeon and I think the work I’ve done here will be perfect for my application to vet school. Or whatever school it is.”  She scratched her temple. “Bird school?”

    “I’m afraid the world has much greater things in store for you, Atsuko Kagari.”  Professor Chariot straightened up, crimson eyes finding Akko’s as the hint of a smile etched across her face.  “I assume you received your letter? I certainly hope that 736³ was able to deliver the invitation, given the circumstances surrounding her injury and the, uh—“ The woman glanced around Akko’s room, which looked as though a tornado had gone through it.  “Unfortunate consequence that has resulted.”

    Akko blinked.  Narrowed her eyes.  “What letter? What invitation?”

    Rowlet—or 736³--hopped off Akko’s bed and walked slowly, the wing with the amateur bandage dragging on the floor, to his—her--designated toilet.  With a look that could only be described as great shame, Rowlet turned her head in that Exorcist manner that owls are capable of doing and let out a very sad, very depressed hoot.

    “Oh, my,” Professor Chariot said.  She frowned, following Rowlet to the corner and delicately plucking up the piece of parchment by a corner that wasn’t marred by feces.  Her eyes fell on the bin, where Akko had balled up the other used parchment, and she let out a little squeak that sounded a lot like disbelief.

She turned and, with a face twisted into pure disgust, presented the front of the parchment (which hadn’t been used, but was still damp in areas where Rowlet had freshly gone) to Akko.

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

 

Headmistress: Miranda Holbrooke

( _Council of Morgan, Executive Chairwoman, Elite Grove Witch,_ _Founder, Witch Rights Organization (WRO), Member of the Institution of Historical Magic_ )

 

Dear Ms. Atsuko Kagari,

We are pleased to inform you **that you have been acc** epted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and e **quipmen** t.

Term begins on 1 September.  We **await your owl** by no later than 31 July.

 

Yours sincerely,

_Miranda Holbrooke_

_Headmistress_

 

Akko just blinked.

“You’ve been accepted to Hogwarts,” Professor Chariot said, pressing the parchment closer as Akko took a step back.  “And we’ve been awaiting your response and, well, the return of 736³. I came to see what the problem was. And now I see it was—“ She glanced around the room.  At Rowlet, with her Hello Kitty bandages. At the fouled-by-fowl parchment in her hand. She sighed. “I see the problem was much more severe than we anticipated.”

“I don’t get any of it,” Akko said, dark eyebrows scrunched together as she tried to rack her brain for what might be going on.  She pinched her arm. Nope, not dreaming. Had she ever heard of a place called Hogwarts? No. Had her parents applied her to a school without her knowing?  Unlikely. Even more unlikely was her actually getting _accepted_ into whatever school they’d put her up for.

“Atsuko—“

“Akko,” Akko corrected.

“Akko.”  Professor Chariot sighed, as though the news she was delivering was altogether incredibly disappointing.  “You, I fear—“ though the last bit was mumbled, “—are a witch.”

Akko’s eyes shot open.  She looked at Rowlet, at Professor Chariot, to the excrement coated parchment, back to Rowlet, then let her whole face morph into the exact amount of turbulent confusion that was going on inside her own head.

“ _Nani?_ ”


	2. Akko's A... What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, welcome back.
> 
> Got another doozy for you! Not much to note yet but we'll be ramping up soon. Hope you enjoy. A side note for something we changed about Hogwarts:
> 
> 1st year starts at age 16.
> 
> Because writing 11 year olds is not something that's fun at all.
> 
> Until next week!

“’I’m a what?”

Professor Chariot pushed her glasses up and rubbed the bridge of her nose.  “You’re a witch, Akko.  Please don’t ask me for the specifics.  I’m not very keen on genealogy.”

Akko shook her head vehemently, lifting the chopsticks once more and glancing at Rowlet as though he—she—might offer some sort of insight.  But Rowlet was just an owl and, as owls do, was busy ignoring both of the humans and instead furiously biting at the Hello Kitty bandages that adorned his—her—wing.

“I’m not a witch,” Akko insisted.  “I don’t have a single wart on my body.  Promise.  Okay, there was that one that was kind of questionable, but I’m pretty sure it was just a mole or a freckle and I tweezed it off anyway—“

“Akko, I think you misunder—“

“And I certainly don’t have a snake _or_ a fox,” Akko continued, her voice rising in frantic anxiety.  “Besides, my parents think I’d kill any kind of animal.  I begged them for a cat for _years_ and all I got was a hamster.  A hamster who died.  Of _natural_ causes!  He was _naturally_ allergic to the chocolate bar that I gave him and—“

Professor Chariot stamped her foot.  “ _Akko!_ ”

Akko was pacing back and forth in the tiny open area of her room between her door and her desk, banging the chopsticks against her thighs like drumsticks as she stared off into space.  “And I don’t know what they do about witches these days.  I mean, I know what they did a long time ago but do they still do _that_?  Like hang or burn or drown.  Kuso, I don’t want any of that!  I heard burning hurts and I can’t swim—though I guess that would sort of be the point.  Do you think they’d let me choose hanging?  Do they give witches a choice?  You must be a witch too, right?  Do you know what it feels like to, you know—“ Akko jerked her hand into the air and flopped her neck to the side, letting out a garbled noise and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Akko.” Professor Chariot started at a normal volume, watching as the teenage girl slumped to the floor in dramatic fashion.  “Akko.”  Louder.  “ _Akko_!”

Rowlet let out a long, ear-piercing shriek that made Akko startle upright.

“I’m fine, Rowly!” She insisted, rushing to the owl’s side and scratching at the bird’s feathers.  “I was just pretending.  I’m okay!”

“Hel _lo_!”

Akko glanced up just as Professor Chariot drew a long stick from inside the robe she was wearing.  She raised it, mumbled something that sounded remarkably like gibberish, and the chopsticks flew from where Akko had dropped them and began to pummel her on the head.

“Hey, knock it off!”

Akko swatted at the chopsticks.  Professor Chariot lowered her wand and they fell to the ground, lifeless once again, where Akko simply gaped at them with an open mouth.

“Whoa,” she murmured, slowly looking up to meet the flaring nostrils of the woman she’d forgotten.  “How’d you do that?”

“Magic!  I’m a witch!”

“I thought I was a witch?”

Professor Chariot let out a low groan and dropped her forehead into her palm.  “Why do they always give the special cases to me?” she mumbled to herself.

Akko’s eyes widened.  “I’m a _special_ witch?”

“Well.”  Professor Chariot sighed and squeezed her eyes shut.  “You’re certainly turning out to be one.”

Akko plucked her chopsticks off the ground, staring hard at them as though they held the answer to life, before lifting her head with a mischievous smirk.  “So, if I’m a witch, that means I can do that too, right?”

“No, Akko, you—“

But Akko was already lifting one chopstick in the air and striking it forward as though she was fencing with the worst possible posture.  “Hadouken!” she shrilled, her teeth clamping around her bottom lip in concentration.

The chopsticks ripped out of her hands and flew across the room at lightning speed, where they pierced into her wall—right into her Pikachu poster’s smiling eyes—and stayed.

“Whoa,” Akko said, staring down at her own hands.  “That was so cool.”  Followed by a meek, “Sorry, Pikachu.”

Professor Chariot rolled her eyes, shoving her wand once more into her robes.  “You did nothing.  And I would highly recommend not attempting magic outside of Hogwarts grounds.  It’s against student code and—“

“Atsuko!”

The door to Akko’s bedroom slammed open.

“Atsuko, what is going on—“

Her father froze in the threshold of the door in his boxers and a t-shirt, blinking furiously as he struggled to get his glasses on.  His focused gaze moved throughout the room, taking in each and every piece of tomfoolery at a time:

“What is that?” he asked when his eyes fell on Rowlet, followed by a, “Who are _you_?” when he saw Professor Chariot standing by the window, which received a booming—

“ _I just fixed that!_ ”

The confusion that had marred Akko’s face for the better half of the exchange with Professor Chariot had grown into a wide grin as she turned to her father.

“Otou-san,” she blurted, flopping down on her bed and squeezing Rowlet so hard that the little owl let out a desperate squawk.  “I’m a witch!”

Her father brought one hand to the door frame to steady himself as he squeezed his eyes shut hard, then opened them again, as though the scene before him would have disappeared in the moment of prayer he’d said to himself.

“You’re a…” he swallowed, thick eyebrows stitching together as he stared at his daughter.  “You’re a what?”

~ ~ ~

“Atsuko is a witch,” Professor Chariot was saying as she sat cross-legged on a cushion in the Kagari’s living space.  She sipped at a cup of tea that Okaa-san had prepared for them.  “It’s highly rare that a witch is born to mug—er, civilian parents, such as yourselves, but it does happen from time to time.”  She shrugged and lowered the cup to its saucer, slowly taking in the reactions of the family of three.  Akko, who was as gleeful as could be and was dancing around with a very displeased Rowlet in her arms.  Otou-san, who was giving her a look of both disbelief and what could only be described as offense, and Okaa-san, who was staring wide eyed and silent with her own cup of tea shaking violently in her hand.

“I’m a witch, a witch, a witch!” Akko was chanting as she dipped Rowlet and swung her around.  “I’m a magic girl, in a magic wooorrrld—“

“Atsuko, please be silent!” Otou-san hissed.  He rose and began to pace around the room, two fingers pressed to his temple as he stared down at the wooden floor.  “I don’t understand.  So those letters were legitimate?  I thought Atsuko had signed up for some spam website for one of her games—“

“Letters?” Okaa-san cried out—the first time she’d spoken all night—and sloshed tea onto her wrist.  If it burned, she didn’t show it.  “What letters are you speaking of?”

With a grumble, Otou-san disappeared into another room.  When he returned, he had a stack of parchments in his hand that had clearly been dug out of the bin.  Like Akko’s letters, they were littered with filth.  Though, in all probability, much more _sterile_ filth.

Chariot let out a long sigh and lifted her cup to her lips, taking a long swig before once again regarding the family surrounding her.  “No, those are very real invitations to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Witches and wizards containing magical blood are invited to attend in their 16th year.”

“There’s no way she made it into a school,” Otou-san said with a shake of his head.  “Have you seen her marks?  Did she even send a legitimate resume?  Her performance in school is appalling at best.”

Professor Chariot nodded, watching Akko as she huffed and puffed around the room with the owl, as though she completely understood how exactly the girl could be so bad at school.  Her attention span was… well, questionable, to say the least.  “Akko did not apply for Hogwarts, nor did anybody apply for her.  As I said, it’s a magical school.  Each year the general population is screened by the philosopher’s stone for traces of magic, which are then tracked to certain individuals.  With muggle-borns such as Akko here, there are numerous tests that take place.  After all, it would be quite awful to mislead a non-magical muggle into thinking they are capable of magic—“

“A witch,” Okaa-san whispered.  She slowly looked up from her quivering teacup with dilated pupils, her eyes darting back and forth between Otou-san and Professor Chariot.  And, of course, Akko herself.  With all eyes on her, she spoke once again.

“My Atsuko, a witch.  I knew she was odd, but I didn’t even know real witches existed.  Did—did the video games do this to her?”  Her eyes became wilder as she zeroed in on Professor Chariot.  Her voice lowered to a whisper.  “Was it the Overwatch?”

Professor Chariot looked very much like she was ready to skip town and never be seen again.  She placed the saucer down on the table and tilted her head back with an exasperated sigh.  “Again, it’s an innate quality that she was born with.”

“This is worse than if she was one of those homosexuals!” Okaa-san moaned.

Akko stopped swinging Rowlet around and turned slowly to face the three other individuals in the room.  Her grin faded, lips straightening as she regarded her mother seriously.  “Is this… a bad time to come out?” she asked slowly, her face scrunching together with uncertainty.  “Because, uh, I kind of _am_ a—“

“A homosexual?” Okaa-san shrieked.  She tried to stand but instead stumbled over backwards, hitting the floor with a thud.

“Our daughter is a homosexual witch.” Otou-san’s eyes widened.  His nostrils flared as he stared at Professor Chariot as though she had caused everything.  “A homosexual wit—“

Another thud as he collapsed to the floor.

“Well,” Professor Chariot rose, brushing off her robes as she regarded the two fainted parents with a shake of her head.  She brought out her wand and opened her mouth, but before speaking turned to face Akko, who was still clutching a gently peeping Rowlet with her mouth agape.

“I see there is much more for you to learn than magic,” Professor Chariot grumbled.  “Such as tact, perhaps.”  She turned away and directed the wand at the two fainted adults and mumbled a clear, “Obliviate.”

A swirl of blue mist erupted from the tip of the witch’s wand and split into two paths, wrapping around the heads of both Okaa-san and Otou-san before disappearing entirely.

“Whoa,” Akko murmured, eyes widening in disbelief.  “Cool.  What did that do?”

“Erased their memories of the past half hour.”  Professor Chariot rolled her eyes and sat back down.  “Let’s try that again, but, this time… please leave out the lesbian part.”

~ ~ ~

**TAKE TWO**

 

Now, if there was one very important quality about Atsuko Kagari that had to be stated, it was that when she was told not to do something… well, it became _very_ difficult for her to not do that thing.

And so she sat and listened, her toe rapping incessantly against the floor as she strained to keep her private information to herself as requested, and paid attention.

“This is one of the first years we are allowing students from non-magical families to attend Hogwarts.  Previously, muggle-born students had their own school, but that has since been…” she hesitated.  “Closed.” Professor Chariot was explaining as she took another sip of her third cup of tea.  They’d already gone through most of the spiel—including the statement of, “This is worse than if she was one of those homosexuals!”, to which Akko bit her tongue and stayed quiet with Rowlet—and it was going much better than the first time.  Her parents were confused, but Professor Chariot seemed to have _some_ sense of how to talk to people who were altogether flabbergasted.

“So you’re saying we should give consent to have our daughter become part of some… experiment?” Otou-san asked with the quirk of an eyebrow.

Professor Chariot shook her head, desperately swallowing a mouthful of tea in her urgency to reply.  “No, no, not at all,” she countered.  “It is… well, it is experimental, to a degree, but the council has decided that in order for the magical community to thrive in the future, it’s important to enhance our society with others who contain the ability to perform magic.  As it stands, Akko could live a perfectly normal life in the muggle world and be just fine.  However, I must warn you that she will not be able to control her magic and may, at times, have… outbursts.”

Otou-san’s eyes flashed with realization.  “The floating ice cream cart.’

Okaa-san met her husband’s eyes and nodded.  “The disappearing desserts.”

“Well, I was really just sneaking into the pantry at night,” Akko muttered under her breath.

“Anyway,” Professor Chariot cut in.  “It’s her true calling to become a witch, one we have… neglected… in the past with other individuals, and we would certainly like to take the opportunity to… well, give _her_ an opportunity.”

“And the cost?” Otou-san sat down next to Okaa-san, who was visibly upset, and put an arm around her shoulder in comfort.

“Free,” Professor Chariot stated.  “We are offering a full-ride scholarship to muggle-born students as an incentive to pursue their magical abilities.  And, well…” her voice trailed off as she coughed into her sleeve in a barely-audible, “reparations.”

“See?” Akko blurted from where she’d grown still across the room, anxiously observing the conversation.  “Free!  Please let me go.  Please.  I’ll do anything!  Except a few certain things, but we can discuss that later.  Please!”

Otou-san looked skeptical, but spoke nonetheless, ignoring Akko’s pleas.  “So you’re saying you’ll take our daughter, free of charge, to a school where she will learn… well, attempt to learn, something that could possibly be useful in some way that I don’t currently understand?”  His brows furrowed as he lifted his hand and stroked his chin.  His red eyes darted to Akko.  “As you’ve seen, her marks were paltry in all the studies she’s previously attempted.”

“Will she be away for school?” Okaa-san had been quiet for some time, but finally spoke up.  “Or will this be a tutoring type of situation?”

“Hogwarts is located in Scotland,” Professor Chariot explained.  “So she will be on campus during the school year and return home during the—“

“Yes!” Akko couldn’t hold it in any longer.  Her fist thrust into the air with glee as she collapsed backwards onto the floor.  “There are so many hot girls out west!”

Okaa-san opened her mouth to speak, but it was too late.

“Obliviate!” Professor Chariot shrieked, and both parents collapsed backwards as their memories slowly erased.  She shot Akko a glare.  “You were about to get permission.  If you don’t hold your tongue, I swear—“

~ ~ ~

**TAKE THIRTEEN**

“I’d like to inform you that Akko is a—“

“Gay,” Akko said.

“Obliviate!”

~ ~ ~

**TAKE TWENTY-THREE**

 

“While Akko is attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during her seven year tenure, she will be—“ Professor Chariot let out a long huff and downed water to ease her croaking voice, “taking numerous classes, to include Charms, History of Magic, Muggle Studies—“

“Lesbian Studies.  Oh, and I totally ate all the pastries you made for the new neighbors that one time, it wasn’t a loose dog at all—“

“OBLIVIATE!”

Professor Chariot then whirled on Akko.

“MIMBLEWIMBLE!”

~ ~ ~

**TAKE TWENTY-FOUR**

 

“Will she be safe?” Okaa-san was asking.  No one had asked why Akko hadn’t said a single word, even though she looked like she was bursting at the seams.  She was desperately stroking Rowlet’s feathers as she watched the full interaction.

“We will ensure that no harm comes to Akko during her stay at Hogwarts.  There are plenty of other wizard and witches who—“

The table shook.  The cups shook.  The saucers shook.  The lamps shook.

And from Akko blew streaks of rainbow light, ricocheting throughout the room, bouncing off the walls until they spelled a single line on the far wall in a perfect ROYGBIV:

LESBIAN

Akko’s eyes widened.  She pointed accusingly at Rowlet, who was shaking her head and stepping away.

With the most defeated sigh of the evening, Professor Chariot lowered her head, lazily pulled her wand up, and grumbled, “Obliviate.”

~ ~ ~

**TAKE TWENTY-FIVE**

 

“You simply need to sign here, here, and here,” Professor Chariot choked out in a barely-audible whisper as she pointed to the highlighted lines on multiple pieces of parchment.  “We promise that we will provide Akko with the best education possible and will treat her with the utmost respect.”

Okaa-san and Otou-san glanced at Akko, who was motionless and stiff where she sat at the table, only her eyes moving as she watched the three adults.  Beneath the table, Professor Chariot’s wand was pointed at the girl as a thin stream of green light trained on her body.

“ _Petrificus totalus_ ,” Professor Chariot had hissed right before Okaa-san and Otou-san had woken.  Rowlet quickly took her place as a person-stand, holding Akko upright with all her might to keep her from falling over.

“Perfect,” Professor Chariot said with a relieved sigh once all the lines were signed.  “I will be retrieving Akko at the beginning of August to give her a month to settle into her new life and make sure she is well-equipped to begin her studies at Hogwarts.  It’s something we’ve been doing with the mud—er, muggle-borns, to give them a boost in an unfamiliar environment.”  She forced a smile and pushed a final piece of parchment across the table.  “Here is a list of supplies she will be needing for her first year.  All of these can be found at Diagon Alley.  If you need any assistance, I can be reached by owl.”

Both parents were staring with narrowed eyes at the list of supplies as though the page contained nothing but hieroglyphs.

Professor Chariot cleared her throat.  “Uh, I hate to be a bother, but do you by chance have a fireplace?”

Okaa-san blinked, then pointed to the irori that was clearly visible in the other room.

Professor Chariot stared at the irori as though it, too, were a hieroglyph.  “It should work,” she said, adding a mumbled, “please, Woodward, let it work.”

Her wand dropped.  Akko tumbled over backwards with a heaving grunt, rolling on the floor and sputtering in inaudible stream of words that sounded a lot like, “GayhomolesbiannotstraightIlikegirls,” but was much too incomprehensible for anybody to understand.  Besides, her parents were much too busy studying the list of items, Professor Chariot was chucking something into the irori, and Rowlet was racing after her with a stream of squawks.

“Do it this time.” Professor Chariot leveled her gaze with the red eyes of Atsuko Kagari.  “And you will deal with the fallout.”

Green flames erupted from the hearth on the floor and with a final, desperate plea of, “Praise Woodward,” Professor Chariot grabbed Rowlet, leapt into the air, and disappeared in a flash of green.

 ~ ~ ~

First-year students will require:

 

UNIFORM

Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)

One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear

One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all student’s clothes should carry name-tags at all times.

 

BOOKS

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

 

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 Wand

1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass of crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set of brass scales

Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Toad

 

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.

 

Akko stared at the list.

“The Professor mentioned a dragon area of some sort,” Okaa-san said, cocking her head to the side as she, too, read the supplies.  “Though I have never heard of such a place.”

“Eh.”  Akko shrugged and stood.  “Everything here will probably be cheaper on Amazon.”

Okaa-san opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by her daughter.

“Trust me, Okaa-san,” Akko stated, even though asking somebody to trust her was like asking a turtle to outrun a cheetah.  “I can handle all of this on my own.”

And so she did.  She stepped into her room, which was much quieter and very lonely without Rowlet to keep her company (even if she had only been there a week), and got to work loading items into her cart on Amazon.  She was quite amazed at how easy it was to find most of the items, though some she had to tweak a bit (particularly the books), but by the time she was finished she was beaming with pride.

She leaned back in her chair, holding the Hogwarts supply list up to the side of her monitor for comparison of the long list in her cart.  Uniform, check.  Books, check.  Other equipment, check.  Everything except an owl OR a cat OR a toad, because Amazon didn’t sell live animals and her parents wouldn’t trust her with one anyway.

If witchcraft was as easy as shopping for magical items, well… Akko would be the best witch in her class.

With a smug smirk and a sense of accomplishment that she hadn’t felt in at least 24 hours, Akko clicked **ORDER**.

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates Thursdays


	3. The Wand Chooses the Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Got another fun one for you. Akko is being Akko per usual and there's a couple of spot Waldo moments.
> 
> Sorry for missing a week. Something came up, pun intended.

“Diagon Alley,” Akko muttered to herself as she turned the letter sideways and stared at the two words through squinted eyes. She finally threw down the parchment and grinned up at Okaa-san with a look of pure accomplishment. “I get it! They just accidentally spelled ‘dragon’ wrong. Simple typo. It’s because they study wizardry, not literacy.”

She’d recently received a letter, dropped in by Rowlet herself (who did not break the window, this time). Instead, she’d hit the wall right next to Akko’s window, where Akko promptly found her outside, semi-conscious, with the brand new letter (though slightly torn and a little wet because apparently Rowlet had flown through rain) gently clutched in the owl’s beak.

She had wanted Rowlet to stay, maybe for some tea or

just a good old time like they used to have like two weeks ago when Rowlet stayed for a week, but as soon as she offered medical attention Rowlet was suddenly better and flying away.

It was whatever. Rowlet had a very serious unpaid internship to attend to, Akko knew that, and so she took the new letter inside and presented it to her parents:

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Miranda Holbrooke

( _Council of Morgan, Executive Chairwoman, Elite Grove Witch,_

 _Founder, Witch Rights Organization (WRO), Member of the Institution of Historical Magic_ )

Dear Ms. Atsuko Kagari,

 

Our staff here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would like to officially extend a welcome to you as our

newest member of Class 857,299.25! As you come from a background that is not documented among our magical registry, we will

be sending a member of our staff to escort you to Diagon Alley to collect your belongings. Your sponsor will be:

 

**PROFESSOR CHARIOT DUE NORDE**

Who will be arriving on **15 August** at approximately:

 

**SOME POINT IN THE LATE MORNING HOURS**

A warm welcome, once again!

 

Yours sincerely,

_Miranda Holbrooke_

_Headmistress_

“They expect me to allow you to go to an unknown location with a clearly unstable woman who we don’t even know?” Okaa-san had said when she’d read the letter after Akko. “No. No. Unacceptable. I’ll be accompanying you as well.”

Akko knew better than to argue--though she also knew she would be entirely embarrassed by having her mother with her on an adventure that was clearly for special adults like herself--and so she simply shrugged and continued tearing open the Amazon packages that had recently arrived. Besides, she figured she really wouldn’t have to spend much time in Diagon (Dragon?) Alley, anyway. She’d already gotten most things off the list--everything she could find, anyway--and really only needed a few small items.

“Atsuko,” Otou-san huffed as he lugged in a massive box, dropping it in front of his daughter with a dramatic sigh. “Please tell me that’s the last of this.”

“Hm.” Akko consulted the very professional list that she had copied down on a Lisa Frank notepad and looked at the side of the box, crossing out ‘Cauldron’ as she did so. A passing glance told her that she had, in fact, received all the supplies that she had ordered. “Nope!” she exclaimed, a broad grin meeting her father’s own tired, doubting smile. “That’s it!”

She cut open the new box, ripping out the foam and throwing it onto the floor to a resounding, “Atsuko, stop that!” which she heartily ignored. Her cauldron had been the last thing she had been waiting for, the completion of her set of supplies. “Hm,” she mused as she ripped out more foam and wrapping supplies before finally pulling out the tiny cauldron that had been stuffed into the center of a too-large box. She plucked the tiny iron trinket up in her hands, eyes narrowing as she studied the cauldron.

“What is this?” Akko murmured, turning it in her hands and glancing at the inside which could hold maybe three pickled plums at best. “A cauldron for ants?”

Okaa-san lifted her eyes from where she was desperately trying to clean up after her daughter.  “Atsuko,” she started, “I think that’s just a novelty item--”

But Akko wasn’t listening. She smacked the cauldron down next to her other supplies, analyzing the item with the scrutinizing eye of a self-proclaimed professional. “It needs to be…” Her fingers cupped her chin as she huffed and shook her head. “At least three times this size!”

“Atsuko,” Okaa-san tried again, frowning at the pile of items that Akko had accumulated in preparation for Professor Chariot’s arrival.  “I think—“

But a loud, irregular knock on the front door interrupted her once again.  Akko leapt up, nearly knocking down a massive stacks of books that she’d tried to organize, and rushed to the entryway.  After all, it was August 15th, and she was expecting a very special visitor.

Though when the door swung open, Professor Chariot du Nord was not standing in front of her.  Well, it _was_ Professor Chariot du Nord, just not the woman Akko had remembered seeing.  Instead of a tall woman in dark robes, a meek figure of somebody who looked like a teacher straight out of a 90’s sitcom was standing on front of her.  Professor Chariot’s red eyes flashed behind round wire-rimmed glasses.  Her hair, which hung loose and rather pretty on their first meeting, was tied back into a tight bun that would _definitely_ give her a headache later on.  She wore way too much blush (more on her left cheek than her right) and purple eyeshadow which looked like she’d smeared on with her index finger.  And, upon glancing down, Akko _did_ see a smudge of purple on the Professor’s hand.

And all that was terrible, but her _clothes_ …

Well, Akko did kind of like her jumper.  It was a white pullover that had a calico kitten with a pink bow on its head and she most definitely would have added that to her closet had she seen it on a sales rack.  The skirt, though… oh, God, her skirt.  It was a gaudy, knee-length, corduroy skirt that reached down just below her knees to show off the palest legs that Akko had ever seen.  On her feet were a pair of leopard print strap-on sandals that Akko knew had to have been on the Discounted Discount Items rack at the Worst Shoe Store Ever.

Akko’s eyes widened as she scanned the woman from head to toe.  When she finally looked up, she met Professor Chariot’s curious gaze and all she could manage to spit out was:

“You look like Ms. Frizzle if Ms. Frizzle shopped in the garbage bin.”

“ _Atsuko!_ ” Okaa-san scolded.

Ms. Frizzle—er, Professior Chariot’s—once confident smile drooped into something that looked like confusion.  After a moment, she raised her chin and cleared her throat.  “I don’t know who this Ms. Frizzle is, but I am here to accompany you to Diagon Alley for your school supplies.”

“Oh.”  A grin flared across Akko’s face as she took a step back, silently inviting the Professor into the Kagari home without word.  Okaa-san and Otou-san eyed the witch warily from across the room.  Upon being looked at, Otou-san cleared his throat loudly and raised an upside-down magazine as though it had been holding his attention the whole time.

“We shouldn’t have to get too much,” Akko said, her words rushing out in excitement as she led the Professor to the pile of items she’d collected.  “I got most of it off Amazon.  Cheaper, you know?  Plus you don’t have to actually _go_ anywhere.  I’m pretty sure I’m only missing a cat _or_ an owl _or_ a toad—“

“—of which you are not getting--“ Otou-san cut in through the rustling of thin pages.

“But I’m sure Dragon Alley has a great selection.”

“Diagon Alley,” Professor Chariot corrected.

“That’s what I said.”

Professor Chariot blinked.  She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and rubbed her forehead as though Akko was giving her a massive headache.  Or perhaps a brain aneurysm.  “How,” she began, her lips seeming to hesitate around the word, “did you acquire items that can only be purchased in the wizarding world?”

“Easy.”  Akko grinned, grabbing the sleeve of Professor Chariot’s jumper and dragging her over to her stack of items and discarded boxes.  Cardboard was everywhere, along with packing peanuts, bubble wrap, paper filling, and more.  “Amazon.”

“I’ve never heard of such a place,” Professor Chariot said.

Okaa-san, meanwhile, was rushing to clean up Akko’s mess and apologizing profusely, as though the witch truly cared about the state of their home and not the obscene material that she was actually being presented with.

Akko cleared her throat, raising a crinkled and tea-stained letter that listed the items she was meant to purchase:

“Three sets of plain work robes.”

Akko gestured to her own body, where she was wearing nothing but a black kimono robe that was so short Okaa-san had already made a number of comments about how, “That cannot be appropriate for any kind of school.”  She beamed up from the list, pointing to a stack of clothing she had set to the side.  “I wore one so you could see how witch-like I look.”

Professor Chariot’s eyes had widened.  She took off her glasses and scrubbed them with her sleeve, slipping them back on and leaning forward as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.  “Those are not the correct robes,” she said, cocking her head to the side.  One corner of her lip lifted up in distaste.  “No, very wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Akko raised an eyebrow and looked down.  “These are right.  I’m a Japanese witch, obviously.”

“Show me—“ Professor Chariot hesitated, as though she wasn’t sure she wanted to continue.  “Show me the rest,” she finished with a sigh.

Okaa-san, meanwhile, looked horrendously embarrassed as she turned and began to Windex a fish bowl.

“One pointed black hat,” Akko continued.

She lifted a Halloween witch hat and placed it on her head.  It was a bit large and slipped down over her forehead, but she went on without missing a beat.  “One pair of protective gloves, dragon hide or similar.”

Akko slid on a pair of black leather gloves.  “Dragon hide was unavailable so I got regular cow hide.  I think.  It might be faux leather.”  She narrowed her eyes at the packaging.  “No, this is real.”

Professor Chariot opened her mouth.

“One winter cloak.  Black, silver fastenings.”  In one swift motion she draped a black costume cloak over her body.  It was far too long and bunched up around her feet.  “Couldn’t find silver.  Didn’t own any to sew on it.”

Professor Chariot closed her mouth.

“As far as books, I couldn’t really find any of the textbooks, so I just got these.  I think they’ll have all the same stuff.  Especially this first one.”

Akko lifted two books:

MAGIC FOR DUMMIES, of which she tapped the cover for emphasis.

MY FIRST MAGIC SHOW!

“Cauldron.”  Akko pointed to the Cauldron For Ants.  “Crystal phials.”  She held up a folder filled with paper.  “Couldn’t find crystal so went with normal.  Didn’t know what to file so I just put in a bunch of random stuff.”

Professor Chariot’s face was burning as red as her hair.  “Akko—“

“Telescope.”  Akko pointed to a massive, professional grade telescope that was in pieces in the corner (because she couldn’t figure out how to assemble it).  “Brass scales.”  She pointed to the fish bowl that Okaa-san had just windexed, where a goldfish floated merrily—if fish can be merry—inside.  “I got gold.  More quality that way and I _really_ want to impress everybody on my first day.”  She lowered the paper, looking up to find Professor Chariot staring at her with the most horrified expression possible.

“No, it’s okay!”  Akko grabbed the bowl and held it up.  Water sloshed out of the top and the goldfish was smacked against the glass container, its fins flailing.  “I made sure to get the kind that sheds naturally.  That way if I really do need the scales, it’s totally humane and won’t hurt him at all.”  She hesitated, cocking her head at the fish inside.  “I mean, not sure it’s a he, I don’t know how to tell.  But he just gives off a masculine vibe, you know?”  She turned back to the witch standing in front of her.  “I named him Gary.”

“Akko, this is all—“

“Impressive, right?” Akko blurted, placing the bowl down and making water slosh and Gary smack against the glass again.  The fish swam in a sideways circle, clearly concussed.  “And I did this all by myself.  See, Okaa-san?  You don’t need to go to Dragon Alley—“

“—Diagon Alley,” Chariot interjected.

“—with me!” Akko finished.  “I bet no one else’s mothers will be there and I want everyone to see how truly witch-like I am even though I was raised by… well, normal people.  No offense.”

Professor Chariot had picked up the tiny cauldron and held it out in her palm, studying it with narrowed eyes.  “Akko,” she said, her gaze flitting over to the excited young witch.  “None of this is right.”

“Yes it is,” Akko insisted.  She held the letter out for emphasis.  “I followed the list.”

Professor Chariot sighed.  She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers closing around the cauldron as she shook her head.  “No, Akko.  This isn’t right.”

“Oh! You’re right!”  The hat slipped and fell to the floor as Akko lunged across the table that held most of her items, knocking into the fish bowl once more, where Gary had finally recovered and once again had to fight against the waves of over-excitability.  “I almost forgot!”

And from half-hidden underneath a pile of foam, forgotten, Akko drew the most egregious, flamboyant, ridiculous looking wand that Professor Chariot had ever seen.  It was bright pink with a thick base that narrowed into a massive, ball-shaped tip.  Akko flicked her wrist with dramatic flair and pointed the wand at Professor Chariot, who flinched away with a, “Don’t point that thing at me!” as her teeth flashed in a wide grin.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but it’s the number one recommended Magic Wand on both Amazon _and_ Google,” Akko said.  She laid the wand out flat on her palms, presenting it proudly as she straightened her posture and nodded.  “This baby’s packed with quality.  It’s made of light, durable materials and is the newest model on the market.  Everyone in the reviews said it worked _perfectly_ and everyone loved the results.  Plus, check this out—“

She pressed a button on the side and waved the wand once more as it began to vibrate madly.

Professor Chariot just stared.  Her jaw had come unhinged at some point and just sat open, her lips working over her teeth as though she wanted to say something but just couldn’t quite figure out what.

“Please turn that off!” Otou-san shouted from where he sat.  “That thing is obnoxiously loud!”

 Akko quickly hit the button once more to silence her wand.

“Akko.”  Professor Chariot squeezed her eyes shut and lifted the hand holding the cauldron.  With a sigh, she finally spoke, her hand presenting the tiny model cauldron.

“This has to be at least three times this size.”

Akko gasped and nodded, turning to Okaa-san as she gestured to Professor Chariot.  “See?” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as though she was suddenly completely and utterly validated.  “That’s what I said!”

~ ~ ~

“I refuse to allow my daughter to go in there.”

The three—that is, Akko, Professor Chariot and Okaa-san—found themselves standing on a very questionable dark alley and staring into a dimly lit pub in downtown Kyoto that reeked of beer and men who didn’t wear deodorant.  They’d gotten there in a matter of moments, when Professor Chariot covered them both in a weird green powder and made them walk into the irori.  Akko was busy dusting it off her jeans (her mother had made her change out of her black kimono) when they’d found themselves standing at the entrance of the building.

Professor Chariot, upon appearing in their new setting, had magically changed into her usual witch attire.  She side-eyed Okaa-san, frowning impatiently.  “We must enter.  This is the only way to get to Diagon Alley.”

“I will not allow my teenage daughter to go into a filthy pub,” Okaa-san said once more, crossing her arms over her chest as though her word was final and she could not be swayed.

Akko let out a dramatic sigh, “Okaa-san, I’ve been in bars before.  C’mon, let’s go.  Besides, I have a fake I.D.”

She swung the heavy wooden door open and stormed in, ignoring the aghast look that had plastered itself on her mother’s face (along with the, “ _What?!_ ” that left her mouth) and Professor Chariot’s first look of relief and, well, _appreciation._

Professor Chariot led the way to the bar, which was relatively empty for the middle of the afternoon save for a few questionable characters, and boldly stepped up to the bartender.

“I’d like a Tiddlywink Surprise,” she said with confidence.

The bartender blinked back at her, the hand holding a bar-towel and polishing a shaker freezing immediately.  He paled.  “I, uh—“  He swallowed.  “That was last week, ma’am.”

“Shit,” Professor Chariot hissed.  “What’s the new one?”

“It’s on our Facebook.”

“Your _what_?”

Akko had pulled out her phone.  Her thumbs blazed across her screen as she pulled up the Facebook of the bar and there, right on the front page, the very first post, read:

_GYOTO’S PUB AND FISHERY_

_Aug 12 at 16:43_

_ATTENTION WITCHES AND WIZARDS!!! GYOTO’S PUB & FISHERY’S SECRET DIAGON ALLEY PASSWORD IS “THUMBNAIL SOUP” FOR THE WEEK OF AUG 12-18.  ALSO COME BY FOR HAPPY HOUR FOR _¥ _500 SAPPORO AND_ ¥ _650 FISH OIL AND RICE VODKA SHOTS!!_

“Thumbnail soup,” Akko said, and the bar dissolved around them.  In a mere moment they were no longer in Japan but the middle of a busy, bustling street that was filled with people rushing from store to store.  Parents scolded teens that weren’t moving fast enough or teens that were moving _too_ fast.  Most of them wore robes—the silly costumey looking ones that Akko hadn’t ignored when she’d done her own shopping—with bright colored scarves.  An alley cat stood on a nearby table that was speckled with owl droppings (which Akko knew because she’d become intimately familiar with Rowlet’s).  Its yellow eyes met Akko’s and it yowled loudly, its tail spiking with the arch of its back.

Professor Chariot nodded her approval, straightening her crooked glasses.  “Thank you, Akko.”

A shoulder slammed into Akko’s and she tumbled to the side, only regaining her posture with the help from Professor Chariot’s steadying arm.  Lavender hair billowed from beneath a dark hood as the figure turned and hissed, “Move it, mudblood.”

“Uh…” Akko straightened up, eyebrows scrunching together as she stared after the girl who had continued walking toward an alley that looked much darker and much more uninviting.  “You’re welcome,” she choked out.

“Now, usually we would pay a visit to Gringott’s for funds before proceeding with gathering supplies.  However, you fall under the Muggle Reparation Scholarship which means that _you_ —“ Professor Chariot grinned and booped Akko on the nose, “—get everything for free!”

Now, if there was one thing that Akko loved more than pickled plums and a good Overwatch match, it was getting things for _free_.  She knew her mother was about to ask what the catch was—which, granted, was a good question since Akko had suddenly been accepted into a school of witchcraft where everything was free—and so she didn’t give her the chance.  She seized Okaa-san’s arm and started dragging her off in some direction, not any in particular as she obviously didn’t know where she was going, and followed the flow of traffic through the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.

It was a place unlike Akko had ever seen before.  Outside movies, anyway.  She felt like she’d stepped back in time a hundred years or more and couldn’t help but stare at all the going-ons with through wide, childlike eyes.  There were restaurants that smelled strongly of corned beef and hash, of baking potatoes, of smoked brisket and sautéed garlic and onions.  Outside one tiny restaurant were fish lined up on a spit, large and small, tended by a small wizard who held a wand up while green flames licked into the colorful, rotating scales.  Above, scrawny and scraggly looking owls loomed, perched on rooftops and street lanterns in hopes of a tossed scrap or two.  The same alley cat from earlier prowled nearby, ready to thieve as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

There were storefronts filled with bobbles and trinkets that Akko had never seen before.  Others her age who were clearly from non-magical backgrounds stood before the tall, fogged, dirt-smeared windows of the shops, gazing in with eyes just as large as her own.  Others looked uninterested and aloof as they made their way through the crowded, narrow street, their eyes locked straight ahead in concentration.  A tall boy walked by, his hood bunched around his neck.  Green eyes swept over Akko as he regarded her with a tense jaw and a curt nod before promptly looking away.

Ahead, at the fork in the street, was a tall building that loomed high above the others.  The columns were off-kilter in a way that made Akko wonder how it hadn’t yet fallen, but she supposed that it was likely held up with magic more than solid architecture.  At the very top sat a stone dragon, one wing draped over the side of the cracked silver bricks.  Its neck stretched far over the street and, for a moment, Akko expected it to come alive with a stream of billowing fire and smoke.  It didn’t.

“That’s Gringott’s,” Professor Chariot said as she steered Akko off to the side, where another family stood chattering hurriedly over bags upon bags of supplies.  A girl, not much shorter than Akko but with a shock of orange hair, was talking excitedly with parents who merely nodded and smiled.  “We won’t be going there,” Chariot added.  She’d been patient until then, waiting for Akko to grow accustomed to her surroundings and explore here and there, but now seemed determined to get Akko to focus.  Not that she was—Akko was still staring wide-eyed at everything—but it was worth a shot.

Okaa-san, meanwhile, looked like she was ready to be back in her quiet home with her quiet husband and sitting quietly over a cup of tea.

“Alright.”  Professor Chariot dipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a folded supply list.  “Wand, books, robes—“

Akko’s attention snapped quickly back to the professor.  “What?  I already got all that.”

“None of what you purchased is suitable for Hogwarts,” Professor Chariot said.  “Especially that atrocity of a cauldron.  Everything must meet the standard of the Witch and Wizard Meets the Standards Association and yours meet none of that.  I checked for the seal on each of the items.”

Akko frowned, her nose crinkling with distaste.  “Well everything had good ratings on Amazon—“

“So you wasted our money,” Okaa-san muttered with a sigh that said it wasn’t the first time Akko had done such a thing.

Professor Chariot was ignoring them both.  “It’d be best to save the wand for last.  And the books are heavy.  I propose we go to Madam—“

Akko’s attention had drifted away just as quickly as it had been seized.  Her wandering gaze turned away as a loud honking noise began to echo through the alley, followed by a spray of purple and orange fireworks into the afternoon sky.

“Amanda, knock that off!” a short woman was screaming.  A girl, presumably the Amanda in question, merely cackled and set off another spray of fireworks.  Just as they were about to fade, they turned into squirming, wriggling worms that fell over everyone nearby—including Okaa-san, who screeched as though death was imminent and began clawing at her hair—to the chagrin of everybody around.

“We’re going here!” Akko declared, ignoring the fact that Okaa-san had fallen down on the ground and was still screaming even though the worms had turned into confetti.  She bolted away from both adults and across the street to where the other girl was still howling with laughter in front of a colorfully painted shop that stood out like a wonderland amongst the dreary and drab storefronts alongside.

A sign outside, glittering with changing colors and bursting with laughter at the sight of the panicked crowd around it, read: _GAMBOL AND JAPES_.

“Akko—“ Professor Chariot was calling out, though she was much too busy trying to help the small, frightened Japanese woman up off the ground to actually make a move.

But Akko was already through the door, the bell above jingling loudly to announce her entrance, to find herself standing in the middle of a shop that was impossibly large for the size of the building’s front.

Crooked shelves rose high into the air, filled with items that laughed and sparked and farted and changed into something else right before her eyes.  Tall ladders provided shoppers with the opportunity to scout higher, though Akko watched as the rungs of one turned into spaghetti and the tiny witch climbing it shrieked as she fell a few feet before they turned back into wood.  Akko immediately decided she would not be looking any higher than eye-level.

Professor Chariot’s voice echoed in her head: _Everything, for you, is free_.

Free.

FREE!

A gleeful smile lit Akko’s head as she scampered through the aisles.  There was a small cauldron much like the one she’d purchased that bubbled fog into tiny figures that screamed insults at her like:

 _Your left eye socket looks astoundingly like my mother’s ingrown toenail!”_ and _, “You smell like toad vomit!”_ that Akko knew would be great for insulting the other team on Overwatch.  There were bags of jellybeans that advertised different flavors and Akko popped one into her mouth—it tasted like grass, which wasn’t all that bad, as she’d eaten grass before—that she grabbed three of.  Whoopie cushions that said _“Silent, but deadly_ ” and were actually silent but smelled like the opposite-end explosion of old Chinese food, a fake wand that spewed a puddle of oil that the short ladder witch slipped on as Akko scurried away to remain undetected.  A gummy mouse that, when Akko brought it near her mouth, turned into a real live animal that squealed with fear upon the prospect of being eaten, only to turn back into gummy as she lowered it in her hand.

All of these things, plus more, found their way into Akko’s arms.

The red-haired girl that had been outside spraying worms all over the place was eyeballing a hat that made silly faces.  She popped it on and her own expression morphed with the hat.  As Akko snatched one off the shelf, she turned to eye the small Japanese girl with a look of both appreciation and disgust.

“A muggle with taste,” Amanda said.  Her eyes fell to Akko’s very full arms.  “And a rich one at that.  Buy me one, would you?”

“Oh, I’m not rich, it’s just all free,” Akko said as she grabbed another hat off the shelf.  “But, sure!”

“It is _not_ free.”

Professor Chariot’s voice boomed through the aisle as she rushed forward, one hand clutching a meek Okaa-san.  “The Muggle Reparation Scholarship only covers school supplies, not novelty items.”

“They’re not novelty,” Akko said.  “They’re magic.”

“Yeah,” Amanda added, crossing her arms over her chest.  “They’re _magic_ , Chariot.”

Professor Chariot squeezed her eyes and counted out loud to three.  “That’s Professor to you, Miss O’Neill.  I was hoping you wouldn’t be just like your brother.  And please don’t instigate Miss Kagari, I don’t need any more difficulty than I’m already having.  I already have my hands full.”

“Well, so do I,” Akko blurted, shoving the items forward.  “But I was lied to and apparently it’s not all _free_ like you told me.”

“I didn’t—“

“Yeah, like you _told_ her,” Amanda cut in.

Okaa-san stepped in.  She was red in the face and her previously immaculate bun was askew, wild hairs jutting everywhere from trying to get the not-worms out of her hair.  “Enough!” she declared, huffing indignantly as she seized Akko’s arm.  “If this is what being a witch is, my daughter will have none of it!”

“Huh?” Akko said.

“Heh.” Amanda snorted before quickly walking away with the hat shoved inside her robes.

“No!” Professor Chariot blurted.  She grabbed the items out of Akko’s arms and began shoving them back onto the shelves, ignoring the cauldron when a fog spirit burst forth and screamed, “ _I can see through your robes!  Did you get that bra in the beginner’s section? Cute flowers!_ ” to which Chariot blushed and ignored.   “This is not what being a witch is.  This is nothing more than a joke shop.”

Okaa-san ignored her.  “Come, Atsuko.”  She gave her daughter’s arm a tug.  “We’re leaving.”

“No!” Akko shrieked.  Her eyes widened at the prospect of being ripped away from her one true dream—granted, a dream she had only begun to dream when she got the news she was a witch—of being part of the magical world.  “I promise, Professor Chariot, I’ll focus and be super well-behaved from now on and—“

And that’s how, only a couple hours later, Akko found herself standing in the final store of the day: Ollivander’s.  She was exhausted from carrying all her books, was hot now that she was dressed in the heavy black robes that were entirely unflattering, and altogether sick of Okaa-san’s never-ending questions that seemed to be on a repeating loop.

But she was excited.  This was where the real magic started: when she got her magic wand, one that would make her a powerful witch and put the world in her hands!

Though, she wasn’t happy to find that the magic started in a tiny, stuffy shop that smelled of mildew and old people.  She half expected to see somebody getting a sponge bath in the back, but instead she just found a wrinkled old man who had clearly seen the better half of biblical times and had two feet and half a butt cheek in his own grave.  But, she supposed magic kept him alive, and so she treated him with the respect that she had been taught to give her elders:

“Wow, you’re super old.  Must be some strong magic if you’re not dead yet.”

“ _Atsuko_!” Okaa-san scolded, aghast.

“Ah!” the old man exclaimed, a broad grin spreading across his face that showed teeth that could only be dentures.  “A witch with sass.  Always my favorite to place.  Come, let’s find you a wand!”

“Yes.”  Akko nodded.  “I’d like a newer model.  Pink is my favorite color, but purple will do if you don’t have—“

Ollivander shoved a stick in her hands.

“Try this one.  Thirteen and 3/16 inches with a mermaid scale core and—“

Akko frowned and thwapped it against her thigh.  “It’s ugly,” she muttered with a curl of her lip.  Just as she insulted the wand, a spark flew from the tip and singed her brand new robes.  She yelped and dropped it.

“—birch.”

Ollivander leapt forward with surprising agility for somebody of his age (that is to say, nearly mummified) and seized the wand before it hit the floor.  “No, no!” he exclaimed.  “Never insult a wand, my dear!”  He carefully set the wand back into its silk bed, where it shuddered briefly before growing still.  “You are clearly not compatible with mermaid scale.  Sass upon sass makes for poor suitability, I should have known.  Let’s try another.  The wand does choose the witch, after all.”

He was climbing an old ladder to get to one of the higher shelves when the entry bell rang out.  His head turned, Einstein-like white hair waving dramatically on his head as he caught sight of the new shopper, and nearly fell off the ladder.

“Miss Cavendish!” His wavering voice echoed so loud that it stirred dust off the shelves.  Akko coughed.  “I’ll be right with you, I’m helping a mug—a new witch choose her wand.  It shouldn’t take long.”

The girl, who was taller than Akko with long blonde hair with green highlights, held a neutral expression that matched the only slightly older woman who flanked her.  Upon the acknowledgment, she offered a curt nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and said, “Please, take your time, Mr. Ollivander,” and settled on letting bright blue eyes drift around the shelves.

The woman standing behind the girl glanced at Akko, ran over the jeans and t-shirt that were underneath the back robes, and sneered.  She placed a stiff hand on the girl’s shoulder and redirected her to another area of the shop, almost as though just _looking_ at her was something they couldn’t bear.  Akko’s eyebrows scrunched together as she huffed and turned away.

“Those are the Cavendishes,” Professor Chariot clarified in a whisper, even though Akko didn’t ask.  “They are a very prominent witch family.  Best to stay out of their way.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Akko grumbled, just as a flustered Ollivander placed another wand in her hand.  “Try this one.  Quickly, now.  I have other urgent matters to attend to.  Please, cast a spell.  But, for all our sakes, aim at the ground.”

“A spell?”  Akko turned the wand in her hand.  It was plain, just like the other one, but felt smoother and she liked the darker wood.  She stuck her arm forward and held it straight as she closed her eyes and blurted, “Abracadabra!”

Professor Chariot sighed and buried her face in her hand.

Akko squealed.

“It bit me!”

“Wrong.”  Ollivander ripped it out of her hands and placed it delicately back into its box.  “Not for you.  Next.”  He handed her another wand.  This one was reddish and short, with a large knot in the wood that made it look crooked.

“I like this one.  It’s—“

Ollivander took it away.

“No,” he said, before she could do anything more.

Akko huffed, crossing her arms as he continued to rifle through the shelves.  He would hold wands up and just stare at them for a moment before putting them back in their boxes and filing them away.  Some would shake in their boxes as if saying no, others would simply scoot away from his hands across the shelves.

When he handed her another and took it away before she could open her mouth to try another spell (Professor Chariot had informed her that _Abracadabra_ was not, in fact, a real spell, and instead to try _Accio_ while aiming at a crumpled piece of paper she’d dropped on the floor), Ollivander took it away again.

Akko was getting tired of it.  How hard was it to find a wand?  “What’s wrong with the wand I bought?” she asked, frowning as Ollivander placed two wands next to her head, as though sizing her up, before placing them back.  “I thought it was cute.”

“Because,” Professor Chariot started to say something, but apparently decided not to finish and left it there.

Ollivander brought forward one of the wand boxes that hadn’t attempted an escape.  He held it out, staring intently before finally nodding and removing it.  “Here,” he said, holding out the wand.  It was a lighter wood, shorter than most of the others, with a slightly crooked tip that curved into a rounded end.  “Try this.”

Akko held her hand out.  The wand felt warm in her hand, tingling and warm against her fingers as she curved them around the thick base.

“Ash.  Nine and three quarter inches with a phoenix feather core.  Clearly phoenix feather would complement your personality, I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it before—“

The Cavendish girl appeared at the end of the aisle, one finger brushing gently against the dusty wooden frame of the shelf as she moved.  Akko could see her clearly without the back glow of the sun.  Her hair waved around a thin face that was pale save for the dust of coloring on her cheeks.

Akko’s eyes widened.

“Damn,” she muttered to herself.  “She’s hot.”

In that moment, with the wand still pointing forward, a thin stream of flame shot from the rounded tip.  And, as Akko watched, it swirled around the other girl before finally coming to a sparkling stop at the end of her golden hair.

And promptly lit it on fire.

The girl shrieked with surprise, leaping back from the shelf as her bright eyes flashed with shock.  She began pounding the flat of her palm against the flames as the stench of burning hair flooded into the air.

Professor Chariot was quick to react.  She pulled her wand from her robes and pointed at the girl while shouting, “Aguamenti!”

A jet of water burst from the tip, drenching the surprised girl whose mouth fell open as the steam rose from her singed hair and water dripped from her nose and cheeks.  Ollivander began blubbering as he bolted forward, his face spread thin and pale with horror as he immediately began pointing his wand against her clothes and muttering a spell to begin drying her.

“Uhh.”  Akko blinked.  “Oops,” she mumbled, then added, “Wet t-shirt contest, anyone?” with hint of a chuckle.

“I apologize greatly, Miss Cavendish, I—“

“Filthy muggleborn!” The taller woman accompanying the girl rushed to her side, her eyes flashing with anger as they fell on Akko.  “I cannot believe Hogwarts began to allow them in.  What an insult to the magical world and—“

“I’m alright!” the girl said loudly, huffing as she brushed her drying robes off and ran her fingers through her hair.  “Please, there’s no need for a scene. We should expect behavior like this—“ Her eyes, burning with a fire that was much scarier than the _real_ fire, fell on Akko. “—from a mudblood.”

“You must go,” Ollivander said quickly, ushering the Cavendishes to the back of the shop without glancing over his shoulder.  “That is your wand.  If it doesn’t work out, well, you can send me an owl for a possible exchange, but I think it will suit just fine.  It seems to agree with you on certain matters.”

“Huh,” Akko huffed, turning the wand in her hand.  It still felt warm and she slid it into her robes, where it almost seemed to sidle up against her.  “Okay, cool.”

“Please leave,” Ollivander added.

“Yes,” the girl agreed.  “ _Please_ do.”

But Professor Chariot was already pushing both her and a confused and offended Okaa-san through the door.  The bell jingled as she hurriedly swung it open, the palm of her hand finding the small of Akko’s back as she shoved her out.

“I believe we’ve made enough of a mess out of today,” Professor Chariot grumbled.

“Question,” Akko said.  Her hand slid into her robes and wrapped around her wand, which twitched at her touch.  Red eyes traveled to meet Chariot’s and, taking the woman’s acknowledging gaze as a go-ahead, asked:

“What’s a mudblood?  Oh, and we stop by the ice cream shop?”


End file.
